


Biweekly Log 11

by stephanericher



Series: Drabbles [14]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:38:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabbles published on tumblr 10/11/15 thru 10/24/15</p>
            </blockquote>





	Biweekly Log 11

1\. Online (Akashi Seijuurou, Midorima Shintarou)

When Midorima had introduced Akashi to his favorite online shogi forum, he’d expected Akashi to go on once and never use the account information again. But to his surprise. Akashi’s become heavily active, most notably on the e-gaming boards. He texts Midorima about his favorite app, and Midorima downloads it for himself. It’s strange and noisy and an annoying animation plays whenever he or his computerized opponent makes a capture.

 _Do you like it?_ Akashi texts him.

 _The animations are…strange_ , he replies.

 _They’re my favorite part_ , Akashi texts back.

Perhaps there are a lot of things he just doesn’t know about Akashi.

* * *

2\. Drunk (Nijimura Shuuzou/Himuro Tatsuya, originally published on Twitter)

This time Shuuzou’s going to pace himself. This time he’s going to still be working on his first (and only) beer when his friends are all fall-down drunk and he’ll be the one to help them into cabs and up their stairs; this time he won’t be plastered before eleven. He slides his hand around the edge of the pint glass; his water’s empty and the beer is so cold and refreshing.

“Long day?” says Tatsuya.

He’s peeking out from behind his bangs like a feudal maiden from behind her fan, in his usual maybe-sort-of-flirting kind of way. Shuuzou nods; Tatsuya knows too much about his work already and they’re not even there to talk about that stuff. He takes another gulp of the beer; it’s smooth going down his throat and as he looks at the glass he realizes that it’s already half-gone and fuck–already his vision’s going soft around the edges; already it’s harder to focus on Tatsuya’s words. He looks so pretty that Shuuzou decides he’ll do anything Tatsuya asks in this moment. Shuuzou takes another sip.

“You need another drink?” Tatsuya says, leaning in (his, some kind of cocktail or other, is all gone save the dregs of the ice).

Shuuzou nods, hungrily taking in the shape of Tatsuya’s face, the shadows falling in the shitty lighting of his hair against  his cheekbones and the dip of his shoulders.

* * *

3\. Again (Furihata Kouki)

Learning basketball, Furihata supposes, is a little like learning to read. You start with the basic moves, like easy characters and sounds, and then move on to the harder and more complex ones as your eyes and motor skills adjust to this. And then you have the space to figure out how it applies to you personally—once you can read, what do you like to read? What kind of stories, poems, articles suit you? Are you better-made for passing and dribbling, for shooting long-range, for grabbing rebounds? And which do you like? Which will you focus on? It’s the kind of thing where you can’t just do everything; there’s only so much your body can take of running up and down the court (even if you have more stamina than Furihata does, which isn’t hard) and there are only so many books that can be read in a day.

And, after all, he’s very happy that he gets to do both of them.

* * *

4\. Serenity (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Takao Kazunari)

Even though his mouth is hanging open and he’s sprawled out and tangled in the blankets like a tumbleweed, Takao looks almost serene when he’s asleep. Maybe it’s because he’s finally still, not all shine and motion and noise like he is when he’s awake. It’s an odd thought but Miyaji can’t take it; it almost makes him want to avoid sitting down on the bed for fear of disturbing the scene. But he does anyway because he’s fucking tired (even if moments when Takao’s this way, this kind of cute, are rare) and Takao sighs in his sleep. He rolls over, his face a few centimeters away from Miyaji’s thigh, and Miyaji absently pats his head. He’s kind of like a cat—well, okay, Miyaji wouldn’t feel certain ways he does about Takao about cats because that’s just fucking weird, but still. Takao smiles in his sleep, and Miyaji feels his own expression soften—he doesn’t exactly smile back, but he can’t scowl at this.

* * *

5\. Injury (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

The good thing about the off-season is that they can still play basketball at their leisure—except if they’re injured, which both of them have been since the beginning of their respective second-round series, which their teams subsequently lost. At least they’re together (the better-than-good thing about the offseason), even if it means complaining about their injuries with Shintarou scowling at his ankle every few minutes because the sprain hasn’t miraculously healed and Daiki scratching at as much skin as he can reach that’s been irritated by the cast on his wrist. And they snap at each other, Daiki at Shintarou for moving around too much and Shintarou at Daiki for knocking his cast into something again, and then they start squabbling and sit at opposite ends of the couch with their injuries for a few minutes.

But Shintarou understands Daiki’s impatience about basketball, how much he already wants to get out on the court, the urgency and stress—it’s not for entirely the same reasons, but that doesn’t mean either of them has any less valid an opinion. And that’s why sooner rather than later Daiki picks himself up and flops down next to Shintarou, close enough to feel his body heat in the air-conditioned living room, and Shintarou turns toward him with a half-smile.

* * *

6\. Point (Alexandra Garcia/Himuro Tatsuya/Kagami Taiga)

They’ve reached the point in the beach after which a sign says they can go no farther; the area is roped off by a plastic fence that probably cancels out any environmental good blocking the area does and they all stare at it for a few seconds. In her youth, Alex would have hopped over it without thinking, and even now the idea still holds a little bit of escapist appeal—Tatsuya, too, is thinking about it, bouncing on the balls of his feet as much as anyone can on this kind of surface.

She flops down into the sand; her ass and back sink in and it’s like some kind of hard, rough memory foam. Tatsuya joins her a few seconds later, dropping his head into her lap, and Taiga follows suit. Their skin is warmer than the sand; the grey-blue waves pound the shore like childish hands against an overly large drum, rhythm inexact but meaning and motive clear.

They’re going to have to get back, especially given how far they’ve walked, but right now they’re tired. Even as the sand sticks to their skin like flypaper, Alex lets her body sink deeper into the ground. The world can wait.

* * *

7\. Improvement (Hayakawa Mitsuhiro, Nakamura Shinya)

Hayakawa never really stops to watch Nakamura until he’s captain, until he’s got to spend time with the clipboard that he really doesn’t want to. It’s boring to go over practice schedules, and Coach knows better than him—but then he sees Nakamura, shooting in the corner, and forgets what he’s doing.

Nakamura’s shot has improved a lot—he’s hardly Moriyama but he’s still got a decent by-the-book fadeaway boosted by his jumping skill. It’s what makes him such a good defender—he can make up for his lack of height on all but the tallest opponents with his vertical and he can get down low with ease and grace. And maybe it’s because the weight of expectation is on him; maybe it’s because it’s his last year; maybe it’s because he got a better prescription (and he did; he’s not squinting at his notes in class or pressing his face nearly as close to the page) but whatever it is, it’s worked. He doesn’t bother to really fill out the practice schedule, but just scrawls “do what Nakamura did” and puts the clipboard down, because watching this really makes him feel like playing basketball.

* * *

8\. Catch Your Breath (Haizaki Shougo/Kagami Taiga)

Some days they’re out on the courts for hours, until they’ve spent their last breaths on running up and down and insulting each other, until Taiga’s bangs are so dripping with sweat it looks like he’s just out of the shower and Shougo’s leaning back against the chain link fence and doesn’t even care about the wires poking into his skin, eyes closed as he tries to suck in the sweetness of the hot garbage and stale cigarette smoke of the city air. It’s too hot to touch each other, but Shougo peels off his shirt and pours water from the fountain all down his chest and even with the fatigue and humidity bearing down Taiga’s more than a little bit into it, but he’s too tired to be ashamed of his gaze flicking over and back up Shougo’s abs and over the scars on his upper arms.

“You like what you see?” says Shougo.

He doesn’t wait for an answer and just flops back down. Taiga huffs (as much as he can trying to catch his breath) and then hooks his pinky through Shougo’s. Shougo looks like he’s about to say something but either he thinks better of it or he can’t be bothered, and at this point it doesn’t matter. Taiga shuts his eyes before the sun’s glare can get the better of him. They’ll play another game soon.

* * *

9\. Weakness (Kise Ryouta, Midorima Shintarou)

Someone (Kise can’t remember who) had once asked him if he’d thought Midorima thought showing his true feelings was a weakness. Kise had laughed and shrugged at the time, even though he’d already known the answer. Midorima’s not that kind of guy—maybe superficially he resembles that kind of guy, the easy mannequin of a stereotype, but he’s really just out of touch with his feelings and in denial about that, as bad at reading himself as he is everyone else. And he’s improved in that respect—not totally, but he’s better at it than he has been.  And the way he is now, whichever of his feelings he does know, there’s no way he considers them a weakness.

* * *

10\. Glitter (Susa Yoshinori/Imayoshi Shouichi)

In the snow, Imayoshi’s parents’ house looks picturesque, like something out of an old-fashioned play. The surface of the koi pond in his backyard is frozen over; the snowflakes fall in clumps like miniature shooting stars, shining in the light from the lanterns on his porch. It gets dark early this time of year.

“Beautiful, ain’t it?” Imayoshi says.

“Yeah,” says Susa.

Imayoshi ducks into the open crook of Susa’s shoulder, wiggling his way in and leaning on the railing next to him. Susa suppresses a laugh. Imayoshi nudges him, and Susa raises an eyebrow. The snow is falling harder now, covering the scene like a dropped tube of glitter, but Susa’s glad they’re here.

* * *

11\. Stifle (Liu Wei/Himuro Tatsuya)

It gets unusually hot in Akita over the summer, hotter and more humid that a place that’s this cold in the winter has any right to be. Practice is stifling, and even Coach agrees to let them end it half an hour early most days—not that it helps that much; washing the sweat off in the shower is only a temporary means of escape from the heat and they’re already half-drenched again by the time they get back to the dorms.

Wei has a fan in his room, which technically isn’t allowed, but under the circumstances Tatsuya decides it might be a bad idea to exercise his student council authority and confiscate it. Besides, he doesn’t have the energy for a write-up right now when all he feels like doing is taking his shirt off and lying in front of the fan with his eyes closed. The sweat is cooling on Wei’s skin and so touching it doesn’t feel quite so gross and uncomfortable now; when they’re this close even rolling on top of him sounds kind of appealing.

So he does; Wei whines beneath him but doesn’t argue or push him off. One foot brushes Tatsuya’s ankle gently, and Tatsuya breathes in the smell of soap and sweat on Wei’s chest.

* * *

12\. Power (Hara Kazuya, Hanamiya Makoto)

There’s a kind of power in pushing Hanamiya’s buttons, a superficial kind like pushing the buttons on a video game in demo mode—it won’t really do much but it’s amusing as hell to watch him get frustrated and snap like a snapping turtle behind a thick glass barrier.

Hanamiya doesn’t find it funny, but Hara supposes he has a horrible sense of humor (the inability to laugh at one’s self often comes with those). And he’s far too serious about himself and what he does most of the time, so it’s as if he’s begging for it. And Hara can’t say not to that kind of plea.

* * *

13\. Balcony (Nijimura Shuuzou/Kise Ryouta)

Ryouta rents them the apartment, mostly because he’s bored of his own and Shuuzou’s really isn’t to his tastes—he’s not too much of a snob not to stay over, but he’d never live there and there really isn’t room for all of his crap, anyway. It’s in a neighborhood that Shuuzou really can’t afford, but his pride isn’t overwhelming enough to make him say no when Ryouta says he’ll pay for it (and considering what he can afford, it’s not even in the realm of financial strain).

Shuuzou’s favorite part of it is the terrace; it’s too small for barbecuing but just the right size for them to stand out together and far enough away from neighboring buildings and other terraces so they’re not conspicuous. The air here isn’t particularly fresh, but even in the summer it’s not too bad to sit out there together and watch the view or talk quietly or just lean on the railing and hold hands and be with each other.

* * *

14\. Plan (Kagami Taiga, Himuro Tatsuya)

They’re both so used to not having to plan for and around the possibility of rain that by Tatsuya’s third day in Tokyo they both decide it’s getting a little ridiculous. Taiga had complained yesterday to his friends about it (because how many of their plans were they going to get to do at this rain?) and both Kuroko and Kawahara had simultaneously reminded him that it was the rainy season, so he shouldn’t expect this.

Rainy seasons are one thing, but it shouldn’t be this incessant—there should be a break in there somewhere, a day of overcast skies hanging heavy with hollow threats, or even a small breakthrough of the sun’s edges, blurred through a filter of fog.

“I’m sorry,” Taiga says again. “I should have realized.”

Tatsuya hugs him tightly, the way he did when they were kids and Taiga felt discouraged, all the strength in his body wrapping around Taiga. And Taiga relaxes into it, hugging Taiga back—even though Tatsuya’s noticeably smaller than Taiga is now, the effect is still the same.

“I’m glad we can spend time together,” Tatsuya murmurs, and Taiga’s chest tightens.

“Yeah, me, too.”

 


End file.
